SMOKING KEEPS YOU HEALTHY!

As I said to Laurinda when I ran into her on the street, if it weren't for having to step outside for our indulgences, some of us smokers would never get any exercise. Left to my own devices, I would turn into a potato. But actually my apartment mate deserves most of the credit; her distaste for tobacco forces me to take a walk with my pipe. So I keep in shape.
Please imagine what this apartment would smell like otherwise.
Well, rich and fecund, yes, delightful to me .....
But a public health hazard.

Many of the people I know are fanatical non-smokers, narrow-viewed and monolithic in their opposition to what is actually a civilized and even refined habit. Consequently they lack an ability to notice fine details as well as any sense of balance. Because, as you will readily grasp, inspecting briars for blemishes, bowl proportions, depth and translucence in the grain, will train one to notice things that others would not. It has contributed to my eye for porcelain shapes, glazes, and the criminally common "rim warpage" from firing that makes what would otherwise be a nice ceramic piece infinitely irritating if purchased, and "just not very good". It will not pass.

Also applies to collectibles, artworks, antiques, and found objects.

Perhaps as a result of this detail-neurosis, my apartment mate has quite exacting standards for the items she collects. She certainly had the gift to begin with, but possibly her immense skill was nurtured by our association.
If she could stand tobacco, she would have a fabulous pipe collection.
A friend during my Berkeley years had one I envied.
But I lost touch with her ages ago.
That Sasieni sandblast.
Ooooh!



AFTERWORD

After tea I went out with a pipe, had some more tea when I returned. Spent the next few hours sharpening the rim edges on three billiard shape bowls with micro fibre pads, before going out again for the final pipe of the evening shortly before nine o'clock.

Hot Jayzus that was a good smoke! Dang! I mean, 'dang'! The tobacco positively sang (one of my own blends), the air was wind-still, and with no fog rolling in there was a crispness and clarity that seriously amplified the beauty of the streetlights marching uphill. Only very few people about, mostly the occasional wanderer returning home.

Two nights ago, according to Don, who lives over in the next block, street crazies had fought outside his building, and when the police rolled past they did nothing. Which is understandable. Doing anything at all would mean touching, taking one or both to the station, and multiple exposures.

Last night was extremely beautiful. The air. The lights.
The quietness and a sense of peace in the city.
That faint hint of perfume.
Green things.

TOBACCO INDEX


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